


Study Methods

by velvetcryptid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x03 Patience, M/M, mentions of prev wincest and ruby giving sam the strap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23366671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcryptid/pseuds/velvetcryptid
Summary: coda to 13x03. sam helps jack move that pencil.
Relationships: Jack Kline/Sam Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 58





	Study Methods

Jack watches his hand tremble between him and the pencil. Sweat beads down his temple as he concentrates on the particulars of levitating the object before him. With a soft clutter, it falls back down to the table, yet again. He lets out an exhausted sigh and nervously flits his eyes over to Sam, observing him over a leather bound book plucked from one of the many lining the walls of the bunker. 

Covering his face with his sweaty palms, Jack whimpers.

“I’m sorry. I know I should be better at this by now, I’m sorry.”

Sam uncrosses his legs and places the book down onto the table next to him. He makes his way over to Jack and places his palm, heavy and sure, onto his shoulder.

“Hey, no it’s okay. It was hard for me too, you know. When I first started getting a hold of things like this.”

Jack uncovers his face and looks at Sam. Finding his small, reassuring smile fixed on himself, he relaxes. He furrows his brows and fixes Sam with an oddly familiar inquisitive look. 

“You had powers too? Just like me?”

Sam huffs out a small chuckle, “Well, not exactly like you. Not to the extent of what you’re capable of.”

“Oh.”

With a growing frown, Jack lets his eyes cast downwards toward the floor. Sam follows them down and sits on his haunches without letting his hand leave Jack.

“What’s wrong, Jack? Is it the pencil? That’s something we can work on, of course-”

“No, it’s not the pencil! It’s just…”

Jack sighs and pointedly keeps his eyes on the floor.

“What if I don’t get better at this? What if I’m still useless and Dean- Dean already hates me and you won’t want me around anymore and-”

“Jack.”

He looks at Sam and realizes his eyes are blurry with wetness he hadn’t noticed earlier.

“That’s not going to happen. I’m not going to let that happen. I’ve-” Sam swallows down a lump in his throat,” We’ve lost too much to give up on you. We’re not gonna let all that’s led up to you existing be for nothing.”

Jack looks into Sam’s eyes and understands the look of determination in them. He lets a moment pass before continuing.

“You said you worked to get your powers under control before, right?” Sam nods.

“Then what? Show me how I can do that too, Sam. When I try, I can’t focus and then I fail, or it just explodes out of me.”

He looks at Sam desperately and it just serves to drill it further into Sam’s mind that this being, the product of their suffering and the loss of their mother and best friend, was just a kid.

“Jack, I don’t know if I can…”

“Sam, please.”

Sam sighs as he closes his eyes and nods before saying, “Alright.”

He grips Jack’s shoulder even firmer and fixes him with a look he can’t quite determine.

“But if I show you the way I did it, you have to promise to not tell anyone. Not even Dean. Got it?” Jack nods his head.

“Yes! Yes, of course. I won’t say a thing, I promise.” 

“Alright then. Stand up and turn around. Focus on the pencil, just like you did before”

Jack shoots out of the chair and does as he’s told. Sam feels his stomach drop with guilt as he makes his way back to the desk. He came prepared. He had a feeling it would come to this.

“Sam?”

“Just stay focused. Don’t turn around. Don’t look at me.”

The pencil rises, inch by inch. Jack gasps as Sam’s hands make their way around his slender hips and works to undo his pants.

“What-”

“What did I just say? Do exactly as I say or we’re finished.”

“No! Stay focused, I got it.” 

He swallows down a lump in his throat and focuses on keeping the pencil in place above the table. Sam's thumbs hook under the waistband of Jack's underwear, slowly slinking them down, taking his pants with them.

“When I first got my powers, it was Dean helping me with this,” Sam chuckles.

“It was uh, his idea. But it worked.”

Jack hisses softly when he feels something cold and wet circle his hole. The pencil vibrates slightly across from him.

“When he was...gone,” Sam swallows a lump down before continuing,”for a bit, I had a… friend- no, someone else, help me with this.”

Sam takes his time just circling Jack’s hole with his lubed thumb. His own pants growing tighter helps the guilt fade, just a bit.

“Now this is going to feel weird. If it gets too much, just tell me. We could slow down or stop if you-”

“I’ve got this, Sam. Keep- keep going.”

The pencil is now firmly in place, mid-air. Jack steels himself for whatever comes next, unsure of how Sam plans to help him exactly. One thing he’s sure of however, is that he only means to help. That he’s good people.

“If you say so,” is all the warning he gets.

Deciding that Jack’s relaxed enough, he slips his thumb inside. Jack gasps and the pencil starts to tremble along with him. Sam grasps his hip with his free hand and says,

“Stay. Focused.”

He works his thumb in and out and God, it’s so warm. It’s slick and oh so warm and he’s transfixed on the fact he gets to be his first. To deflower a goddamn nephilim.

“Hanging in there? Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just… weird. Like you said. It doesn’t hurt so much as it’s odd.”

“Well, considering what you are, I don’t think much would hurt you anyways. Here comes another.”

“Another? Another wha-” another sharp intake of breath as Sam slips out his thumb pushes in two fingers at once.

Jack slightly keens over himself at the further intrusion. As he’s discovering, not entirely unwelcome.

“Sam?”

Focused on pistoning his fingers back and forth, scissoring motions as he does so, Sam responds with a hum.

“Is it, um, supposed to feel like this?”

“Like what?” He’s so tight.

“You know. Good?”

Sam snakes a hand underneath Jack’s legs and pulls on his half hard cock. Not bad. 

“It should, if the one helping you is doing a good job.”

“Then I guess you are,” Jacks says with a soft sigh, equally perplexed by and enjoying the new sensations.

Sam glances from behind him and sees the pencil still in place and smiles to himself. 

Letting himself place a small kiss to Jack’s side, he says,” You too, kid. Keep it up.”

Focused on tugging on Jack’s heavy cock, enjoying the way his foreskin falls over the head of it, he stalls his work on his hole when Jack calls his attention again.

“Is there more? To this?”

Sam looks up to the nape of his neck and spots a slight glisten starting to form.

“Why? Do you think you’re ready for more?”

“Yes, I believe I am.”

Sam lets out a shaky breath as he slips his fingers out of Jack and lets go of his cock. Undoing his jeans, he hisses at the cold bunker air when he pulls his own cock out. He gives it a few strokes in anticipation, already fully hard. Slicking himself, he stands up and warns Jack before going any further.

“You sure you’re ready for more? The next, it’s more. A lot more.”

It’s only when Sam starts riding the ridge of ass does he realize what he meant by more. 

“Do it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

“Alright,” another swallow, “Alright.”

Sam wants to start slow. Slower and gentler than Dean was. The kid deserves that, at least. 

The head of his cock slips in and Sam’s thankful for the prep or this would’ve been too tight, too painful. Only for Sam, probably.  
Even with all that came before, he’s still tight and it takes all of Sam to not just shove all of himself inside, Not that the kid would mind, he thinks.

Jack gasps and the pencil starts to vibrate again.

“Jack?”

In between breaths,” Keep. Keep going.”

Sam pushes as slowly as he can further inside. His fingers did him no justice. The wetness and the heat. Sam’s glad Jack runs warm unlike- unlike-

He shakes the thought off and focuses on the warmth wrapped around him, like Jack is pulling him further and further in.

When he’s fully settled in, all Sam wants is to push Jack face down on the table and just take. Take just like Jack took- not his fault. It’s not his fault, he didn’t ask to be born and for all the things his birth took away and-

Sam wraps his arms around Jack’s chest and hides in the space between his shoulder blades. He calms himself down, to stay focused just like he’s teaching him. To stop from blowing his load too soon cause God, it’s fucking good.

He peers over Jack’s shoulder and settles his glance on the suspended pencil.

“Hey, you got it.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, good job, Jack.”

Jacks has his hands grasping the sides of the table, knuckles white. It’s strange. He hasn’t been alive for long and this is by far the strangest sensation he’s felt. It grounds him. Focusing on Sam around him, inside him, the fear of being left behind and alone just background noise. Compared to Sam’s heavy breath on the nape of his neck, all of that is nothing. Just him, Sam, and that pencil.

“I’m gonna, fuck, move. Alright, Jack?” he feels Jack nod and starts to move.

Sam slides his hand down to Jack’s hips and grips tight. He pulls his cock slowly and agonizingly out. Out, till the head nearly pops out and then he thrusts back in. Jack gasps and grips the table even harder, threatening to snap the edges off.

Sam loses himself in it, just like Jack does. Back and forth, in and out. Slamming back into Jack and even if he’s not hurting him, he still hopes his hole is left puffed and pink.

The pencil under Sam’s scrutiny. It vibrates in time with his thrusts, just like Jack's gasps. 

“Still good?” Sam huffs against his neck.

“Ye- yes. Oh,” Sam picks up his pace at his affirmation.

“But it felt better. Better when you-” Jack lets out an even higher moan when Sam wraps a hand around his cock and starts tugging him with fervor.

Sam won’t last. Jack’s the best and tightest he’s had in a long, long time. He hums into his shoulder when he hears Jack mumble something.

“I said,” Jack grits out, “thank you.”

“God,” Sam grips tighter and fucks harder and is thankful that he won’t leave any marks.

Jack, in between gasps, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank-” 

Jack shoots off. Come landing in messy spurts across the table, even further than the pencil- almost high enough hit it. Jack keens and moans and as Sam learns, he’s a screamer when he comes.

Sam follows Jack down over the table and bites down on his shoulder. Still pumping his flagging cock, still fucking into his hole, it’s not long until Sam comes himself.

Jack shivers as he feels the vibration of Sam’s growl make its way down his spine. Twitching against the table as Sam lets his load fill his insides. When he’s all spent, Sam drops down onto the nephilim and lets himself just bask and breathe.

After a while passes, Jack reaches behind himself to tap Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey, Sam?” Sam grunts in response.

“Look.”

Dazily, he lifts his head up and sees the pencil. Levitated and still. He drops his head back onto Jack and starts to chuckle hysterically.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just,” Sam says as he wipes his sweaty hair off his face, “congrats, kid. You did it.”

“Thanks to you!”

Post fuck haze fading, Sam says, “Yeah. Just uh, remember to not mention it, alright?”

“Alright. It’ll be our secret. I'll only talk about it when we work on my powers again."

"Again? Right, of course. Next time we'll maybe um, try the other way around," Sick. Sick to his stomach.

"I think I'd like that," Jack admits, contented.

Sam takes a glance at the come covered table and the fucked out nephilim beneath him and decides that the next lesson is: cleanup.

**Author's Note:**

> man its been a while. quarantine got me writing the fic idea ive had since this ep aired. anyways hope yall are washing ur hands. comments and kudos are appreciated ❤


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